


Yours Truly

by Riotangel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hannibal Loves Will, Love Letters, M/M, Possessive Hannibal, Unrequited Love, its painful yall, will does not love hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riotangel/pseuds/Riotangel
Summary: In which Will had only pushed Hannibal off the cliff, and three years later, he received a letter.





	Yours Truly

My dearest,

Another three years, do you regret it? I never got to let you know that I forgive you as I was falling, though you know that I will always forgive you. Betrayal stings, my love, but does it also sting you? Does an act of love and loathing, perhaps just loathing, still sit with you? I think about you always, every move I make, I imagine you here with me. How I would have loved to show you the world, the soft grasses of Milan, grape vines of Venice. We could have been lovers, though you know that. I need not repeat it though I ache to.

You do not need such reminding. When you returned to me, sailed the Atlantic, I believed you had come for me. Not for the glory of bringing me back to the bureau to be caged like an animal, gawked at. Thirteen counts of first degree murder, ten of desecration of a corpse, four of assault, two of assault of an officer, one of withholding valuable information to the bureau. Do you know who that last one was about? I stand by what I said, in front of primavera. If I saw you every day for the rest of my life, I would remember that time. I did not have the chance to fulfill the first part of the promise.

I do forever welcome you, I will hold you to my chest no matter what the reason. If you stab me, I will thank you for letting me see your face, touch your skin, one last time. If you wish to stay, come stay, if you wish to be held, my god I will hold you. I am still unsure of your motives the first time- the first time I saw you again in Florence. I was not thinking about who was with you, I wasn’t thinking about what your motives were though I believed again that you had not come to betray me. My mistake. Are you still with your family in Virginia, Will? Are you content? I would welcome all of them as well, close. Anything to have you close.

I do ask, if you return, please do not take the glory of bringing me back to rot, though if that’s the only way I can see you again I will take it. You must come to me. I will provide you love, warmth, protection. Anything within my capacity to please you, to bring you happiness, to have you feel love. If you sleep in my bed, if you kiss my face and assure me our forever, I would not be surprised to be woken to my hands cuffed, my mouth closed behind a mask, my arms bound and you standing over me. But that sliver of sweet hope still binds me to you. I feel. I feel deeply. I feel the night at wolf trap before I let you see me, you laid your head in my lap and told me how you wanted to be held, you pressed your head into my shoulder after sitting up, thanking me. I wanted that to last forever. I did not want you to see me for I was fearful that this would happen. It is cruel, Will, though I suppose that is your intention. The first time, the first time I caught scent of Freddie Lounds, I felt me spine crack, as if my insides had spilled, I cried. Did you not see it? I wanted to cling to you, take you away, whisper in your ear to assure my love that we would escape this, together. But you did not want my gift. My gift is still yours. It is still with you.

I did not get to see you barefoot in a field of daisies, they have quite a few in France. I did not get to watch Abigail in the sea, us, all together, Will. I gave you that chance, is there a particular reason you did not take it? Perhaps you just did not love me as I longed for, as I loved you, as I’m sure Bedelia told you, I ached for you. I know you would have loved them, the flowers-have been careful not to crush any florae. I never did get to watch you fall asleep on a Friday night in Austria, cool wind blowing through your hair. I do miss that, I’m sure you know. You were the only one who fooled me, thrice. I believed that we would fall together, you staying close to me. I could treat your wounds, while I felt them under your linen, black bloodstains pouring. I believed that I would again feel how soft your lips were and how your hand fit into mine. I was falling alone. I know you can find me if you please, and I hope you are well, truly. I wish no harm to come upon you.

Yours forever,  
Hannibal Lecter


End file.
